“Men
go by me whom either beauty bright
In
mould or mind or what not else makes rare.”
-- from a poem by Gerard Manley
Hopkins, “The Lantern Out of Doors”
Gerard
Manley Hopkins came to see that rareness was everywhere, and so, slowly but
steadily, am I. To me, in my seventy-first year, all things, more and more, seem
superior and second-to-none. Every little leaf these early April days
seems somehow outstanding, and all the passing breezes bring a bit of
brand-newness with them. Best of all, though, is that all the people I pass
strike me as being beyond compare, somehow suffused with uncommonness. It’s as
if they all have lights inside that shine in the rarest of ways, as if some
sort of peerless “beauty bright” is always present with each of them. In one
sense, they are just the most ordinary people, but in another sense – the sense
that’s steadily on the rise in me – they are utterly unparalleled, unsurpassed,
and unsurpassable. It’s no wonder, I suppose, that I’ve taken to staring more and more these last few
years, since I seem to be living in a wonderland that makes magic every
moment.
1 comment:
stunning words my friend~
life is magical when we open our hearts and let it delight us ~
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